Special

Alright, alright already. I've enough of you bitching about my lack of publishing I thought maybe in a moment of silence I would pontificate. As if I've a moment in time. It was, somewhere in the past, that every passing thought I had could be put onto this arena and everyone could weigh in. I've not lost the plethora of passing thoughts, I just can't seem to find a second or two to put them in words. That funny little sitcom is still continuously playing in my head. The problem arises when I sit down to type, I can't remember what was so funny. I'm old.

Lately, amongst the chaos of building, moving and trying to reassemble home life, I've had a recurring thought and this itch won't seem to go away. Writing it down may help, but, I doubt it. It won't prevent me from writing it down anyway.

Some months ago, shortly after we purchased the property to build our home, a happy little blue bird pointed out to me that I may not like the neighborhood. Please, I thought, I don't have to socialized with these people, it'll be fine. I'll ignore them. You know, be "in" the neighborhood, not "of" it.

So far, sort of good. I may not be "of" the neighborhood but it will not prevent me from bitching about it. And it all centers around one issue...What makes you "like" me? What makes me likable? What measurement do you use? Why are you popular and I'm just a nuisance?

When I was in high school, I was a watcher. I watched groups, I had hopes of being a part of groups, but the reality was that I was a forgettable. Those who are remembered, promptly forgot me when they graduated.

I'm OK with this. The overall impact on my life was of no significance. Except that, many of the things that made them memorable are what keeps them fueled now. The car they drive, the house they live in, the ward they attend, the school their children attend, the job their husband has and the salary that he commands. They've moved from a high school version of the game to the grown-up version of the game. Nothing changed but their age. Now they keep up with the Jones'. (Who ARE the Jones'!?! And what do they have that I'm supposed to die trying to obtain!?) They want to be just like everyone else. Well, everyone else is unoriginal and colossaly B-O-R-I-N-G!!!

I find these things unimportant for various reasons, but, I think Micheal J. Fox remarked the most poignantly on it, "vanity is the first thing to go." Yet, for many, twenty years after the fact, what was important then is still important now. Whether or not you're pretty, skinny, rich and worthy.

I will say it until I'm blue in the face, I don't care what these people think of me. But it will not prevent me from bitching about it. They're stupid and I find them tiresome. They make me dislike my social surroundings. Therefore, I avoid them. They are self serving, self righteous, indignant and ignorant. I've lost tolerance for these things. I'm tired of people whose words say one thing and actions say another.

This is what is important in my life, believe or not. My boyfriend, my offspring, my pseudo-offspring, and whether or not they are happy. Period. My sweet Dolly is plump as a pear and I can't tell you how gorgeous she is. Her sweet flower will be here very soon and what Dolly looks like is of no significance to me. She is an amazing mother. She will love that flower like no other. That, friends, is what matters. Dolly's heart. And I know her heart will never change. This is what makes me love her so very much. It's what makes me love those important people in my life, each and everyone, so much.

So, I don't care whether you are smart, skinny, beautiful, rich, in the right religion, part of the right crowd.....and I don't care what my new neighbors think ( not that I won't be irritated by it, or continue to bitch about it). I know, most of them are shallow. So, bring up the alcohol, smoke on my porch, and be a misfit, oddball or outcast. My home, my world, is for people with heart. People who are real. People who are fallible. People who make mistakes and can admit it. People who are to me, the MOST special.